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Club Checkpoint VS. the RP

(after many weeks of delay, I finally give this RP life. Set in the World of Scott Pilgrim, this takes on a different story, with completely different characters. The idea is the same though, plenty of enemies to smite from the face of the Earth. If you haven't already done so, post a bio in the Official Discussion Thread before posting here, and make sure to read all of the discussion thread so you know the limitations on characters. Okay, Go!)

Las Vegas; The Entertainment Capital of the World. It is a home of world-renowned casinos, shopping centers, and dining. It is the center of entertainment. And there are many ways to entertain in the City of Lights. Downtown in the Strip, you find a form of entertainment that is infamous for running people broke: Clubbing. Thousands of people every night would flock to one of many clubs to party, get drunk, and loosen up. Unknown to the people however, all the clubs in Las Vegas, from the small-time ones, to the giants with hotels in them, are all grouped together, working in a specific balance that keeps some form of order between them. However, if one more club were to tip the balance, everything would come crashing down upon them… And that’s exactly what Tony Solkos went and did.

Tony is your average example of a potential university graduate gone bad. He dropped out of his sophomore year to chase a fleeting dream in bartending. This has earned him the disgrace of his parents, including the disownment of him by his Congress Representative sister: Estella. It doesn’t stop Tony from his pursuits though; he spends the next five years working at a local bar, where he learned more skills than just how to pop a bottle of beer. However, his happy-go-lucky spirit is still restless; it seeks more thrills in life. So every weekend, he buys a handful of lottery tickets and spends Saturday Night watching the line of numbers pop up, and sees the dollars he put in drop down the drain. Finally, on the eve of his 25th birthday, all the money he lost spews back up with additional company. One of his lucky tickets scores a match, entitling him to $3 million in the draw.

In another spur-of-the-moment, Tony goes on to celebrate his 25th Birthday in style; by beginning the construction of a Club. In the next seven months, Tony calls upon his new wealth to make his dream a reality, transforming an abandoned warehouse into Club Checkpoint. A high-grade club with all the neon lights, dance floors, and spirits a club needs to bring in the crowds. And now…

Level 1 – Opening Night​

Three hours into the first day, and everything was glorious. Word had clearly gotten around that this club would be as fantastic as it was, as the dance floor was already choked. Clearly, Tony chose his DJ well, the Disc Jockey was twirling the CDs and producing the beats like a master. The crowds danced on an illuminated floor that showed a checkered flag that fluttered slightly under the banging of the partying feet, with the Club’s logo; a CD disc with the letters CC in yellow. The symbol was also on Tony’s work shirt; a black colored t-shirt with the logo emblazed on the left breast, underneath the logo, there was the Club Checkpoint motto, “Save your game”. Florescent pillars held up the roof, glowing with vibrant colors that were affected by the songs being played. This was the Club; Tony’s club, and he had no regrets in creating it. He managed to bring the club instantly to the top and still have $100,000 left for any other expenses. He was also quite generous with his staff; each one was paid a cut above what the average was, even the dishwasher with the corny jokes, though Tony could easily relate to him, since the two were similar in so many ways.

Absentmindedly, he played with a strand of his gelled blonde hair, as he waited for people to come over to get liquored up. This was the only thing that bothered the man; he had only served about a dozen people so far, including one depressed old sap whom was trying hard to hold his glass still so he could finish his eighth beer. Such small business for the alcohol was unusual for the amount of people that appeared in his club so far. Surely not everyone was soft. Tony looked over to the opposite side of the bar, where the other bartender was working her station, and Tony saw just where all the intoxicated customers disappeared to.

(Later than I planned, and shorter too. I found describing the club itself hard, because I don't see too many of the high-class dance clubs, mostly just local taverns at best. It's here though, ready to push on into a new adventure)

"Yep, have to love that laughing gas." Raqy chuckled to herself, watching a middle-aged woman (who dressed like she was seventeen) start quoting various memes to make herself seem 'hot' to all the barely-legal men here.

"I feel so floaty!" The dyed-brown haired woman giggled. "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuu--!" Her green apple martini sloshed all over her tight, white crop top, the wetness revealing a revolver-printed bra. The medicinal stench could still be smelled around the vicinity of that glass.

Just so Raqy didn't have to get an eyeful of some douche offering to 'wipe' her bust, she stomped off to another corner of her station and dropped the woman's tip dollar into her jar. Her knee-high platform boots made a satisfying noise on the tile, adding to the beat of the techno playing.

"Hey beautiful!"

That was another call for a drink. Another catcall. Oh well, just roll with it for some tips, Raqy thought, yanking her white club shirt down. She really didn't want to look like that martini lady.

"How's it going, handsome? What can I get for you?" Raqy asked, flipping her curly dark hair in a somewhat exaggerated manner for humorous effect.

"I'd like a scotch on the rocks, please 'n' thank ya." The hipster-looking man asked. Yes, what a 'hipster' was doing in a 'mainstream' area, Raqy didn't know. He certainly was going to get hot in that grey beanie and three hoodies with unknown band names. She didn't even need to look at the glasses with the lenses poked out. She just got drinks.

"Certainly. Anything else?" Always upsell, it could increase profit, and thus her pay. Morgan would love to be surprised with an iPad on her birthday.

"Maybe a bit of your signature helium? That would be hilarious once karaoke starts."

"Hey, for a ten dollar tip, I'll give you a touchup free right beforehand." Raqy responded, pouring the scotch over the ice cubes in its little glass. Since the hipster slid over a ten, she opened some of the 'freckles' on the palm of her hand and excreted a yellow balloon. Pinching it right before it floated off her hand, she expertly tied it and handed it to her customer with the drink. "Enjoy."

Spin here, scratch here, sound effect here... Many thoughts like this floated through Alec Reynolds' head as he pumped out a mix on his turntables. His headphones blared the mix into his ears, with the cord hanging down to where it was inserted into the side of the turntables. Occasionally a small music note drifted out of his hands without him knowing, and as it exploded it let out the note it would be on the regular music lines.

Alec finished off the song, and the dancers cheered. "That was my own, personal mix, One-Up! 'Nother mix coming in fifteen minutes guys!" He said into the microphone perched on the edge of his tables, before setting up a Kesha song and unplugging his headphones, only to clip it back into his ipod. He walked away from the turntables, and to the bars on the side of the club. He was tempted to go over to Raqy's side, but instead went to his employer's, Tony Solkos, side.

"Hey Tony, you know what I like." He said, sitting down at one of the stools. "Make it a quick one though, I need to throw another mix at these guys soon."

OoC: Short. And since you don't know what Alec likes, so make it up. Hope this is okay~

Tony was able to hear that all the way from his side of the bar. And even managed to catch an eyeful of Guns and Boobies for himself. He let out a small chuckle, maybe he wouldn’t mind having the short end of the bar. If the club kept getting customers like this, he was going to have to expand quickly just to keep up, perhaps he wouldn’t even have time to work the bar if he needed more bouncers or start a theme session. Come to think of it, perhaps he could make a racing theme next week, with karts, checkered flags, and even awards for dancing with a podium and everything. Heck, he could even invite Top Gear all the way from London if the club profits kept going up like this, no doubt when he counted the next day, he’d probably end up with more money than he started.

"Hey Tony, you know what I like." A person said, sitting down at one of the stools. Tony snapped back to attention to see Alec, the club DJ had put Kesha in control of the music so he could get a drink himself. "Make it a quick one though, I need to throw another mix at these guys soon."

“Alright, that means a glass of gasoline with a lit match garnish, right?” Tony joked, tossing a huge glass into the air, then catching it in his hand. “Nah, I kid. You’ve been addicted to my Soda Rum Special for weeks.” Tony scooped up some ice and dropped it into the cup. He then pulled out a silver drink mixer, poured soda water, light rum, blue Curacao, grenadine, and the smallest splash of vinegar. He quickly sealed off the mixer, and began to vigorously shake it in his hands, quickly building up pressure inside.

“You know, I’m still not sure what to call it. It’s definitely a potent fizzy drink, with a real kick to it. It needs a special name, you’ve got any suggestions?”

Raqy overheard the drink conversation with Alec and her boss on the other side of the bar. She definitely didn't want to pay attention to the 'clean up' going on with the martini lady.

Soda Rum Special? The bartender thought, remembering the acidic smell of the distinctive vinegar concoction. She'd tasted it once on break, and wasn't fond of it, but the mixture of the flavors was quite nice. Raqy started humming the tune to Greased Lightening with incorrect words, just because it--well, worked. Blue lightning, go blue lightning...

Blue Lightning!

"Lucas!" Raqy called while mixing up a grasshopper. The menthol scent of drink was delectable! "See if you can get a bluer tint to the drink, and call it either Blue Lightning or Bolt out of the Blue. It's cheesy, but I think they'll like it."

Even here in the control room, about as far away from the sounds of the music as you could get while still being in Club Checkpoint, the walls still shook as Alec worked his magic. Chie didn't really mind his music, but god was she going to have a headache the next day.

Boredly, she blew other bubble with her chewing gum; grape flavoured, she loved that flavour. She had her feet up on the desk, her laptop on her legs and was trying to see how quickly she could get through One Level, a flash game she found incredibly addictive.

"Candy Stripes of DOOOOM..." She read the hint at the bottom of the screen, before moving her elephant forwards onto a different colour stripe. And died. "Dammit!" She cried. At least she thought she said that. She couldn't actually hear herself.

She was pretty sure that her boss, Tony, wouldn't mind her slacking off right now. She was kind of the mechanic around here; her job was to keep all the lights and sound equipment and whatever else there was electronic wise in order so the club didn't explode or something like that. It was the kind of job that people tended to do after the party, not during it, and besides, Club Checkpoint had only just opened. She definetly didn't expect there to be any sort of system malfunctions at all...

Chie glanced up at the screen (not her laptop, the other screen) that had a list of all the electronic equipment in the club. She was rather proud of that program, having written it herself. Everything seemed to be running smoothly, but to her surprise and annoyance, Chie found that one of the new lights in the roof had gone out. Scowling from having to stop playing her game, she darted out of the room, flinching as the sound of Kesha's horrible singing got louder, until it seemed like she was in the club herself. Which was almost correct; she was in the ceiling, far above the dancefloor, the easiest way to get to this particular light.

Lifting off part of the ceiling first, Chie hooked her legs around a bar and hung upside down out of the hole she'd made, inspecting the light. It only took a moment for her to figure out that the bulb had simply blown.

"Cheap piece of crap." She muttered to herself, before pulling herself out again, and darting off to get a replacement.

Quickly, and with clear experience, she screwed off the old lightbulb and put on the new one, having carefully made sure that the electricity for this particular light had been turned off beforehand, so she didn't die or anything like that. Which would suck really. Her job done, she prepared herself to climb back up when she heard someone exclaim from down below. Some ditzy looing girl had seen her and was pointing up at her in shock.

"'sup Blondie!" Chie yelled out in greeting, before sticking out her tougne cheekily at her, making the peace sign with her hands before disappearing back into the ceiling. She put the bit she'd taken off back on, so no one would ever know what had happened. Walking back to her hide away, her mind was already completely focused on One Level again.

Xavier was not sure how the heck people managed to clog so many of Club Checkpoint's toilets on the friggin' opening night.

Xavier Roberts, Club Checkpoint's one and only handyman and plumber, sighed as he tapped the toilet, trying to ignore the horrible smell. The toilet expanded for a moment, swallowing the mess whole, and Xavier sprayed some lavender-scented bathroom spray. Now it smelled like feces, puke and lavender. Lovely.

The more or less muted sound of Alec's music sounded trough the bathroom. It was actually really busy, but he hadn't expected any less; This club was going to be the new hit, he just knew it.

He had met his employer, the founder of the club Tony Solkos, at a café weeks ago. Tony had been looking for a handyman just in case, and Xavier, who had been running out of money, had gladly accepted. Plumbing and repairing was something he was good at; It took him one finger to do it- Sometimes quite literally.

From the foul odours of the men's toilets, he stepped into the smell of excitement, aka sweat, alcohol and something plasticy he could not really place. Probably a remnant of the glorious 'brand new club' smell.

Xavier Roberts had been hanging in the club ever since it had opened this night, mostly sitting near one of the bars. He had tried his luck on several women so far, without much progress. Maybe he'd just have to wait for the right chance. Or the right woman. Or both.

Xavier fiddled with his right earring as he sat down at Raqy’s bar, purely because it was closer. Right at that moment, Raqy called out to Tony, something about Blue Lightning. ‘Business’s going good, eh? I’ll have a beer, if you don’t min…’ He stopped. ‘I guess I ain’t supposed to be drinking while working, am I? I’ll have a coke, then.’

Sipping his fizzy coke, he looked at the crowded dancefloor, were people were getting’ down on Kesha’s music, which was actually quite catchy once you got past the screechy tone and obvious autotune. The dancefloor itself lit up in a random colour when stepped on, a brilliant idea of Chie’s, and right now the entire floor flashed with colours.

He turned, facing Raqy again. ‘Could you try to serve the partying alcoholics… Less alcohol? I’m not sure if this city’s sewer system can handle more puke.’ It hadn’t sounded as gross in his mind.

Ah, another customer. However, he stopped. ‘I guess I ain’t supposed to be drinking while working, am I? I’ll have a coke, then.’

It was Xavier, the club's handyman. Raqy sarcastically thought that he would have even more fun with the toilets if he got drunk.

‘Could you try to serve the partying alcoholics… Less alcohol? I’m not sure if this city’s sewer system can handle more puke.’

"Nope, this is a bar, blondie." The bartender said, chuckling. "Think of it this way--The more they vomit, the more drinks they bought, and the more money for us. Then, if we get rich enough, I'm sure the boss would try to buy the sewer system."

"Now to the Coke. One is coming right up, Xavier." Raqy said, turning around to squeeze the handle of the tap and get the brown fizzy beverage. Pointing to the martini lady still hanging around the bar with her barely legal suitors, she said to be funny, "See the one in the white with the gun bra? I bet there'll be a bit more than vomit in the toilets tomorrow!"

'Nope, this is a bar, blondie.' Raqy said, laughing. Xavier, never the one who could really wrap his mind around things, only now realized how stupid he had sounded. 'Think of it this way; The more they vomit, the more drinks they bought, and the more money for us.' Raqy continued. 'Then, if we get rich enough, I'm sure the boss would try to buy the sewer system.'

'That'd be an investment my Dad would be proud of.' Xavier muttered. Born as the son of a wealthy, but old-school disciplinarian businessman, he had been a rebel for most of his teenage and adult life, of which the latter had only started a few years ago.

Xavier enjoyed his small moment of rest- As much rest as you could get from sitting at a bar in a completely filled disco- As he knew he would probably be called away for something, be it another toilet or something else.

Raqy, next to him, pointed at a woman a couple of bar seats ahead. She was behaving like any other drunk woman would, and of course, there was a drink in her hand. She had spilled alcohol on her shirt, revealing her bra that had a revolver pattern on it- Xavier tried not to stare for too long. 'See the one in the white, with the gun bra?' Raqy asked. 'I bet there'll be a bit more than vomit in the toilets tomorrow!'

Xavier broke into a smirk. 'Would you, by any chance, want to trade jobs for a day?'

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